


When the moons arise

by socknonny



Series: The Spaces In Between [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, First Dates, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/pseuds/socknonny
Summary: First dates are hard, particularly when you can't show anyone you're on a date.





	When the moons arise

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading!

Steve had been to the arcade more times than he could count in the last week alone, but today was the first time he’d gone inside in years. Dustin and the rest of the party were all at Mike’s, running their new campaign, which was perfect because it meant two things. One, Steve wasn’t playing babysitter for once, and two, no one was around to witness him meeting up with Billy. At least, no one who would either cause a scene or just straight up see right through them.

As he pulled into the parking lot, Steve considered which of the two options would be worse. Five nerds causing a scene would undoubtedly be the least convenient in the short term, but if Dustin realized he and Billy were on a date… Steve didn’t want to even imagine the weeks of drama he’d have to deal with then.

He switched off the ignition and waited in the car, unreasonably nervous considering today shouldn’t be any different to any of the other days they spend together. It wasn’t as though he could even act any differently around Billy; that was the whole purpose of choosing the arcade. They could go out on a typical date whilst simultaneously appearing perfectly normal to the people around them—hiding in plain sight. Two guys hanging out at the arcade didn’t raise questions, not like two guys going to dinner or the movies.

Even just the thought of sitting in a dark cinema with Billy made Steve’s heart race, and not just in a good way. Someone could see, and then they’d know and it would all be over. A small town like Hawkins would never let them get away with this, and Billy had hinted—more than hinted—that his dad would kill him. Steve recognized the look in his eyes when he said it; it was the same look Will got when he talked about the Mind Flayer.

It never occurred to Steve not to believe either of them.

But here, at the arcade, they could laugh and stand beside each other, even touch each other so long as it was playful and boisterous. No one would look twice. To them, it would be a date, but to everyone else, it would just be two guys hanging out.

Steve didn’t really know how to feel about that. He knew dates, knew how to plan a date in just the right way to melt a girl’s heart. Dates were flowers and heated kisses against the lockers. How could he date Billy if they couldn’t have any of that?

The roar of the Camaro broke through his thoughts, and he looked in his rearview mirror just in time to see Billy tear into the parking lot, cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth and a mean expression on his face. Steve frowned and got out of the car. As the Camaro came to a spluttering halt beside him, he leaned against the roof of the Beemer and watched Billy through narrowed eyes.

The fact that Billy was deliberately avoiding looking at him said more than words could.

Billy cut the engine and slowly got out of the car. It was only when he had walked around to stand in front of Steve that he finally took off his sunglasses and looked Steve in the eye.

Steve winced at the sight of Billy’s face. It wasn’t obvious—it never was—but it was there in the slight redness to his cheek bone, the subtle swelling along his jaw. It wasn’t like his dad beat the shit out of him, but a backhand here and there with the right amount of power behind it left a mark. Not to mention all the scars that would never be visible from the outside.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly, feeling like all eyes were on them even though no one was looking their way.

“Don’t sweat it, pretty boy,” Billy drawled before jerking his head toward the entry. “Let’s go inside.”

There was a hint of a purr in Billy’s voice, the same tone that he always used to cover what was real, to hide. It made something cold settle in Steve’s stomach to know that Billy was using it with him.

The noise of the arcade hit them the second the doors opened. The laughter and shrieking felt almost like a punch, it was so against what Steve was feeling, but he shoved the thought aside and followed Billy to Missile Command. Billy leant against the front and smirked at him.

“You ready to be ground into the dirt, Harrington?”

A flash of memory hit Steve from yesterday when they’d been hanging out at the junkyard: “You ready for me, Steve?”

The junkyard had blurred into a flash of colour and light as Billy tackled him, the two of them wrestling for advantage in yet another one of the ridiculous sparring matches they’d started having lately. The junkyard faded to the sound of Billy’s harsh breathing in Steve’s ear, the warmth of his hand against Steve’s skin—tiny moments they could only have there, away from everyone else.

‘Harrington’ was a far cry from ‘Steve’, but Steve knew why it had to be that way. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“You wish, Hargrove,” he murmured, the name tasting bitter on his tongue.

Billy frowned, studying Steve’s expression, but he let it go. They turned to the machine, popped quarters into the slot, and sank into their roles. Soon, they were laughing and shoving each other, competing to beat each other’s scores, and Steve almost began to believe it.

Except it wasn’t fair, and no matter how long he spent trying to tell himself it was fine, it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine at all. Sure, it wasn’t a lie. They weren’t exactly acting—on any other occasion, they could easily have spent time at the arcade as friends—but every time Steve wanted to kiss Billy, he couldn’t. Every time he wanted to pin him against the wall and breathe him in, like he’d done with every girlfriend he’d ever had, he couldn’t. Every time he wanted to show Billy that this was real, he fucking couldn’t, and he couldn’t stand it.

A rough hand shoving his shoulder brought him back to the present.

“What’s wrong, man?” Billy grunted, dropping his hand and glaring at Steve through narrowed eyes. “You’re barely here.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, wincing as the strands caught against his fingers; he was so frustrated that he’d already tangled his hair into knots.

“How are you okay with this?” he said finally, barely audible above the noise around them.

“With what?” Billy’s tone was dangerous, but Steve was beyond caring.

“With _this_ ,” he hissed. “Come on, don’t play dumb.”

Billy’s hand shot out to grab him by the shirt so fast, Steve didn’t see it coming. “You think this is _dumb_ ?” he asked lowly, drawing Steve close so that his words were barely above a whisper. “Tell me, Steve, how exactly do you propose we _intelligently_ make this obvious, huh? Got any bright ideas?” He shoved Steve away. “I didn’t fucking think so.”

Steve straightened his shirt and took a step backwards, unable to keep the hurt from showing on his face. “What the hell, man? I thought we were past this.”

Billy grinned, all teeth. “What, you’re surprised?” He took a step back and held his arms out to the side, so his whole body was on display. “This is me, Harrington. Get used to it or get the hell out of here.”

Steve stared at him, a dull ache rising in his chest until he could barely think beyond it. “Fine,” he said, backing away and ignoring the voice in his head that was screaming at him to stay and work this out. “Fine, I’m out.”

He didn’t expect Billy to call after him, but it still hurt when he didn’t.

*

If there was one thing Steve’s mom was good at, it was noticing when Steve had just had his heart broken. Which was annoying, since she never seemed to notice anything else.

“Stevie.” She perched on the edge of the dinner table and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me what’s happened. Which girl is it this time?”

“Mom, stop.” Steve pulled back, even though part of him wanted to let her hug it all away like he was five years old again. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. It’s a lot more than nothing, Stevie.”

“Leave the boy alone. He doesn’t need you mothering him.”

The sound of his father’s voice emerging from the top of his work papers sent any residual good feelings flying from the room. Steve’s entire body grew tense, and his mom’s hand dropped back to her side as she turned to glare at the other side of the table where his father was sitting. His parents were great together most of the time. Flowers and kisses and romance were abundant in the Harringrove household. But as soon as Steve came between them, the arguments broke out.

“I’m his _mother_ ,” she insisted. “I can mother him all I like.”

The folder dropped several inches, just enough for his father’s disapproving frown to appear over the top. They’d only just finished dinner, but his father’s focus was already back on work. “You’ll turn him soft.”

If only he knew. Steve couldn’t help but wonder what his parents would say if they found out about Billy. But then again, maybe it didn’t matter; he’d clearly ruined that already.

“It’s fine, dad.” He tried to interject, but his father didn’t even seem to hear him.

“The girls these days can be so cruel.” His mother stood and crossed the kitchen to the sink, beginning to wash the dishes with sharp, harsh movements. “Steve, you know it’s not you, don’t you? You’re not the problem, honey, I promise.”

“I might be a little,” he admitted, staring at the kitchen table and thinking back over their argument, just as he’d done roughly three hundred times since it had happened last night.

“No,” she insisted, waving a soapy spoon in his direction and staring him down fiercely. “These girls don’t know what they’re missing. Don’t you let any of them make you believe anything thing less.”

“Mom,” Steve complained. “Can you stop?”

“What? I’m just telling you the truth.”

Steve’s dad cleared his throat meaningfully, but there was a hint of humor in it this time. When Steve looked up, his mom had a sheepish expression on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said in an entirely different tone to how she spoke to Steve. “You know how I get.”

“I know, honey.”

Steve watched as the two of them seemed to transform in front of his eyes. One moment they were arguing, the next they’d fallen into soft smiles and meaningful glances, and suddenly it was like a veil had been removed from Steve’s eyes. Steve used to find it romantic, but looking at it now… he was suddenly hit with the realization that it was something else altogether.

Habit.

Instead of talking to each other and working through their differences, Steve’s parents fell back into a comfortable routine of powerful husband and emotional housewife—two roles played in perfect harmony. It cut the argument off in its tracks; how had he never noticed that before? What the hell good was that? Neither of them were even listening to what the other was saying.

Steve was reminded suddenly of all the girls he’d dated in the past, all the gestures of romance he’d made sure to follow, like that was somehow all he had to do. Had any of it been real? Or had it just been a role he was filling? God, had he cut them off in arguments too? Maybe Nancy was right and it was all just bullshit.

He thought of Billy. What had Billy been trying to tell him? The swollen eye, the anger, the purr in his voice that masked something else.

“Fuck,” Steve swore and stood up, ignoring his mother’s protests of language. “I’ve gotta go.”

He got all the way to his car before he realized he had no way of reaching Billy that wouldn’t put him in danger.

“Fuck,” he swore again, smacking his hands down on the steering wheel.

He could call Dustin and get Dustin to call Max, but then the party would be involved. And as much as Steve loved all the little nerds, he knew asking them for help with this would only mean trouble.

In the end, he decided to just drive. If he stayed any longer in the driveway, his mom would surely follow him out and demand to know why he’d been so rude, and he just couldn’t deal with her overcompensation style of parenting right now. He tore down the street toward Billy’s house to see if the Camaro was in the drive.

It wasn’t, and despite all his better judgment that told him to just give up, Steve began to drive the streets of Hawkins looking for it. When it was clear Billy wasn’t at any of his usual haunts, the only place left was the quarry.

Steve pulled up just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows beneath the Camaro and the boy leaning against it. Billy didn’t look up when he heard Steve arrive; he simply continued to stare out into the vast blackness of the quarry. It sent a little shiver down Steve’s spine, to know that Billy knew the sound of his car without looking. That Billy wasn’t alarmed or on edge to find Steve here, interrupting him, even though they’d fought yesterday.

“Hey,” Steve said, walking over to lean beside him.

Billy held out his cigarette with a questioning glance. When Steve took it, their fingers brushed together, and Steve had to fight back a shiver. When they first began to touch like that—accidental and unexpected—it used to send sparks tingling along Steve’s fingers. It didn’t feel like that anymore; instead, his entire body was suffused with warmth just from that small connection alone. He closed his eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke wash through and over him while the warm feeling slowly settled beneath his skin.

After a moment, he realized what it was: safety. He felt safe with Billy, and the smallest touch was enough to remind him of that.

Suddenly, Steve felt like the biggest shithead. He handed the cigarette back to Billy and braced himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He felt more than saw Billy turn to him, but instead of interrupting, Billy just waited.

“I’m sorry I walked off on you,” Steve continued. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you. Not properly. You were on edge and I just kept pushing you.”

When he looked over, Billy was still just watching him quietly. After what felt like an age, he dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot before finally speaking.

“The way I remember it, I pushed you.”

Steve laughed, surprised that Billy wasn’t making this into an argument. Yet, anyway. “Well, yeah, but I knew something was wrong and I didn’t even ask you what it was or anything.”

Billy raised one eyebrow. “Do you actually think I would have told you? There?” He tipped his head back and shook his head a little, blond curls falling over his shoulders as he stared up at the darkening sky. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

The name made Steve’s heart skip a beat, though he fought to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t handle things well,” Billy continued, speaking up to the stars. “You know that. I know that. But I’m trying.” He tilted his head to the side, gaze sliding to meet Steve’s eyes. “I didn’t realize until yesterday how different I am with you. When we’re alone, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Now, Steve’s heart was beating like crazy in his chest. He was sure Billy must be able to hear it.

“I got into it with my old man yesterday morning.” Billy gave him a wry smile. “He wanted to know ‘what whore’ I was meeting. I argued with him, and I nearly slipped. Nearly said ‘he’.”

The blank way that Billy said it sent chills down Steve’s spine. He knew what that would mean, how important it was that neither of them ever, ever slipped.

“That’s why you were in a bad mood,” Steve guessed.

Billy nodded. “Just made me think of how much we have to hide this. And then when I saw you and we had to act all different, it.. ah…” he scrubbed the back of his neck—the first sign Steve had ever seen that Billy was uncomfortable. “It made me feel like shit, actually. Like I could only be with you when we were alone or some crap. And when you got mad about it, I just snapped.”

They’d been arguing for no reason, arguing from the same goddamn side.

“I like you when we’re alone,” Steve said without thinking.

Billy grinned at him. “No shit.”

Steve laughed louder than he meant to, relieved to realize they were okay, even though he didn’t yet know how. “I mean, it’s not that different to how you are normally.”

“No?” Billy’s tone was casual, but Steve thought there was something serious behind the words.

“Seriously,” he said, turning so he was standing inbetween the v of Billy’s legs, facing him. “You’re different, sure, but it’s still you. We’re not faking it in public. We’re just not showing all of it.”

Without anything to distract him, like a cigarette or a steering wheel, Billy looked strangely vulnerable. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he pulled back a little even though he didn’t leave, like he was afraid to lean into Steve’s warmth. But his eyes told a different story—wide and bright in the moonlight, fixed on Steve’s like he couldn’t look away.

Steve brought his hands up to Billy’s arms, rubbing his thumbs along the denim of Billy’s jacket. It was all still so new. Aside from that first kiss in the parking lot, they’d hardly had any time together. There had only been a handful of moments they’d managed to snatch when they knew no one was around.

“But I know what you’re saying,” Steve said quietly. “I hated it too. I hated that I couldn’t be like this with you.”

Billy’s lips parted, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. “It’s not just that,” he said finally. “I want to be able to hang with you like that. It shouldn’t matter that we do this in private; it shouldn’t change anything.” His forehead drew down into a frown and he looked away, frustrated.

Slowly, Steve lifted a hand to Billy’s cheek, tracing the lines of his jaw and waiting for permission to go further. A few seconds passed, and then Billy melted into his palm. Steve bent down to kiss him, biting back a moan as Billy’s hands slid up the back of his shirt. The sun was gone, but the air was still as warm as it had been at midday, and the feel of Billy’s skin against Steve’s mixed with the delicious heat of the summer breeze surrounding them. Even beneath the moon Steve felt coccooned in sunlight.

“There’s no one around for miles,” Billy said, voice low, as they pulled apart. “We can be like this now.”

“Feel like a swim?” Steve asked, unable to keep from grinning as Billy’s eyes lit up with delight.

In seconds, their clothes were abandoned on the shore and they were running into the water. It was so warm, they could barely feel it lapping against them. The night air filled with the sound of laughter and splashing, and Steve felt like he was back in middle school, skinny dipping for the first time, without a care in the world.

Billy dove under the water, and when he emerged it was like something out of a dream. His long hair sent droplets running down his back, and it seemed like every one of his muscles was highlighted in moonlight and shadow. Then the dream dissolved into laughter as he flicked his hair back and whooped with joy before crashing down into the water once again.

Somehow, it was better that way—not quite a dream, but not reality either. Steve stood in the shallows as Billy swam, watching him. He could still see the echo of Billy’s quieter self—it was there in the dip of shadow at his collarbone and the still blue of his eyes when they met Steve’s—but it was hand in hand now with Billy as the rest of the world knew him. His yells were the same as when Steve played against him on the basketball court, and he vibrated with the same fierce energy that guided him down the school halls looking for trouble.

Steve was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Billy disappeared, didn’t hear how carefully Billy waded through the shallows behind him. It was only at the last second that he realized what was happening, but by that point it was too late and he went down with a shriek, tackled under the water.

“Jesus!” he yelped, coughing and spluttering as he emerged to the sound of Billy’s laughter. “It’s ice cold down the bottom!”

“Yep,” Billy said, flicking his hair back again and grinning. He dropped back so that he was floating and drifted over to the deeper part where Steve was. “Wha’d’ya reckon, pretty boy? Need something to warm you up?”

Steve cracked up. “That’s terrible.”

He moved closer all the same, letting Billy’s arms close around his waist and pull him in. He could feel all of Billy pressed against him, skin on skin, and it was suddenly as if a fire had ignited inside him. But he felt no rush to make anything of it or take any huge steps forward; this was enough. More than enough.

“Maybe you’re just easy then.”

Now that it had appeared, it was like the smile wouldn’t leave Billy’s face. It transformed everything about him, whilst changing nothing at all.

“Says you,” Steve said, but he didn’t protest when Billy kissed him.

Steve could still count on one hand the number of times they’d kissed, but even still, he thought he should be used to it by now. It was just kissing, right? He’d done it with hundreds of girls before, and it was always just a prelude. A means to an end.

Kissing Billy Hargrove was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It made him wonder what the hell Billy did with the girls he’d dated, because there was no way he’d kissed them like this. Billy kissed Steve like he was waiting for Steve to say no, like he was begging for him not to. His tongue and lips were slow against Steve’s skin, reverent, and clearly fueled by that same gentle part of himself that only came out when they were alone.

It brought out something new in Steve as well. He felt himself dropping into the same patterns he fell into with past girlfriends, but before he could give himself over to them, Billy would grip him tighter or bite his lip harder, and Steve would remember that this was _nothing_ like what he was used to.

Nothing about this could ever become habit.

When they finally had to break away for air, Steve dropped back into the water, floating in the warm currents on the surface, and held his hand out to anchor himself against Billy’s arm. When their hands met and Billy entwined their fingers together, the same feeling from before flooded him again: warm, safe.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” Billy said suddenly, his voice soft in the night. “I’ve never had this before, Harrington.”

This time, the name didn’t make Steve wince. He was listening this time, properly listening, and he recognized it for what it was—a piece of armor against the vulnerability Billy had just bared.

“Neither,” Steve said, realizing how true it was the second the words were out. “And you won’t.”

“I want both,” Billy continued stubbornly. “I want this, and I want the arcade, the basketball court, the junkyard wrestling matches. I want it all.” He gave Steve a wry smile as he said the final words, like he was aware how spoiled they sounded and just didn’t care.

_I want it all._ Steve couldn’t remember a time anyone had said something like that and meant _him_. Just him. He curled his fingers tighter in Billy’s hand, felt the water lapping warm against his skin.

“Then let’s have it all.”

Billy closed his eyes and smiled, apparently content with Steve’s answer. “You better watch yourself at Missile Command. Next time I really am going to grind you into the dirt.”

Steve could picture it now—the two of them spending a few hours there, eating junk food and fighting to beat each other’s scores. It would be different next time; Steve got it now. He didn’t have to crowd Billy against the locker or kiss him or climb in his window at night to date him. They were more than that. They were junkyard wrestling matches and one-on-one basketball matches and skinny dipping under the moonlight. They could pick and choose which parts they showed in public, but it didn’t mean anything was hidden, didn’t make what they had in public any less than the rest.

All of a sudden, Steve understood why Billy had been angry. They were mad about the same thing—hiding themselves away—but it wasn’t for the same reason. Steve had been caught up in the idea that dating Billy was meant to be somehow more than the friendship they already had, and he’d been frustrated because he couldn’t show it. But Billy wanted their friendship, wanted it all. Steve had been worried about what he had to hide, but Billy had been worried about what he might lose.

Steve wasn’t sure he totally understood it yet, but he wasn’t concerned; he knew now that he only had to ask.

Steve laughed, closing his eyes and drifting back so they were floating together. “You can try.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hhhhhhnnngg boy. Okay. I hope this wasn't a mess? I know I have a tendency to try to shove way too much shit into one story, and then either hammer it down readers' throats or skim over it.
> 
> Let me know what you want more of in this series. Readers are dropping off as it goes along, so I don't know whether to wrap it up or keep it going. Also... chapters or new works? Preferences?? I did it as a series bc I was only going to do a couple, but now that it's looking like a longer thing, if it's in chapters instead of works then I won't have the same need to wrap up an arc in each section, and I can make it longer that way :) Let me know your thooouuughts


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